


A Due of Contemplation

by HBingo



Category: Sherlock: Case Of Evil (2002)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Declarations Of Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, M/M, Past Drug Use, Protectiveness, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 21:06:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9460397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HBingo/pseuds/HBingo
Summary: Sherlock tells Mycroft about Rebecca Doyle's dying love confession.





	

The Diogenes Club is bustling at it’s usual rate. Mycroft and Sherlock are once again seated at the table near a window, as to watch passers-by. Normally by now, Sherlock is eagerly adding in extra deductions Mycroft has overlooked. However, Mycroft has noticed that in lieu of their normal banter, the conversation is stilted and Sherlock obviously has other things on his mind. Mycroft cautiously asks Sherlock if he he would prefer they play their other game tonight. To his surprise, Sherlock merely replies with a look that is both desperate and pleased, while nodding emphatically. Mycroft wastes no time in eagerly calling for the bill and helping his brother into a coat.

They had been lucky they had not wound up in a dark back-alley or in a cell due to the precarious situation that they had both been engaging in on the cab ride over to Baker Street. Mycroft had finally been able to curtail Sherlock’s excessively, exquisitely depraved behavior by reminding his younger brother that perhaps he did not wish to have a run in with Detective Inspector Lestrade on that evening. Had the cabbie deigned to noticed their personal indiscretion, things could have ended much differently. Mycroft made sure to tip the man handsomely for his silence.As it is, he barely gets the door to the flat closed behind them before Sherlock is attacking a spot just below his jaw with teeth and tearing Mycroft’s tie away as if it had personally offended him. 

Sherlock and Mycroft are lying together under white sheets, both nude not very long afterwards. Mycroft is glad that Doctor Watson seems to have gone away on a holiday, as it would be obvious to any who walked in now, from the discarded clothing on the floor and the way they are both presently situated, that they have just had very satisfying sex. 

Well, it had been satisfying for Mycroft. Sherlock, on the other hand, is tracing the track-marks on Mycoft’s inner elbow looking contemplative about something. Although he’s cautious and trepidatious about doing so, Mycroft asks why Sherlock is perturbed, hoping that perhaps his brother is simply unraveling some riddle or mentally sorting through his last case. Sherlock stills for a moment before continuing, claiming that nothing could possibly be amiss in this moment. 

Mycroft is pained at such an obvious lie.It has been a while since they’ve had a similar encounter Mycroft knows and he wonders what could weigh so heavily on Sherlock’s mind, as to tear him away from the precious, stolen moment. 

Suddenly, Mycroft is worried that with his degenerating condition he has been unsatisfactory to his younger brother’s voracious appetite. It’s been getting much more difficult lately for Mycroft to keep pace with his brother for long periods of time, especially in certain ways. Perhaps this is the day that Sherlock will have finally found Mycroft’s body lacking, as he should have a long time ago.

Without even giving Mycroft time to voice his concerns, Sherlock assures him that isn’t the case at all and that their sex is more than adequate. Mycroft might have had the presence of mind to affect chagrin at the presumptive wording if he were not so utterly relieved. His fears are old and have been dispelled a hundred times over, but they are remarkably deep-seated.

Sherlock pulls himself away from Mycroft’s body, to sit back against the headboard. His brother lets loose a heavy sigh, looking down where Mycroft lies on his side, watching every inch of him for clues. It’s always harder to read cues off of Sherlock - because he knows tells so intricately in others’ bodies, he is a master of concealing and subverting them in his own.

Sherlock then slowly begins to relay the events leading up to Rebecca Doyle’s death. 

There is a moment of weighted silence between the two of them. 

Mycroft asks Sherlock if he had told Rebecca that he returned her feelings, if maybe he still loves her now, even after he passing. Sherlock’s face twists with despair as he shakes his head. He confides that he feels nothing for the women he has slept with. That he never had cared for her, or any other woman he had ever slept with - and there had been many (something Mycroft is bitterly aware of, but accepts as he does all his brother's other eccentricities). That there’s only been one person he’s ever really desired. 

He does not elaborate and Mycroft does not push, could never bring himself to do such a thing Instead, Mycroft simply notes the picture he had observed on the mantle when they had come in. He wonders if his brother is aware of it’s mate sitting by Mycoft’s nightstand. Mycroft lets the conversation dangle, giving Sherlock the silent presence his brother so often craves. When Sherlock is ready, (and not a moment before) Mycoft will help as best he can.

Sherlock is quiet and meek - a look that Mycroft thinks suits him extremely ill - when next he speaks. It’s been five minutes that have felt like a lifetime to Mycroft, although he would never admit such a thing aloud. 

His brother is asking if Mycroft believes that Sherlock is a deficient human being. If because of the nature of the relationship they share, they both are irredeemably flawed. 

Although his first instinct (one to protect Sherlock above all else) is to deny his brother’s assertions, Mycroft does him to due of contemplation. He takes almost as long to speak as Sherlock had, lost to the erratic spinning of his own moral compass.

Finally, Mycroft honestly tells Sherlock that he does not know, but he loves Sherlock anyway. In every way. That he will always love him. 

Sherlock is momentarily shocked into silence, before sliding down and burying his face in Mycroft’s chest, eyes damp. Sherlock makes small, wrecked noises that Mycroft tuts at, before lightly wrapping his younger brother in his arms. 

This is the first time Mycroft has ever articulated his affections aloud. He knows it’s both a sting and a balm to his brother to have said them, after what Sherlock has just revealed to him. Mycroft pets his brother’s head, stroking over Sherlock’s track-marks now, a sweet mockery of his brother’s earlier ministrations. 

Mycroft knows that they are both damaged, but he fight to cherish Sherlock and the love they have, no matter what - even if they must hide it, even if his body is weakened; Mycroft will always defend his brother.


End file.
